


Bells for Him

by SeverusSnep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fear, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Near Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Character Death, Past Torture, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverusSnep/pseuds/SeverusSnep
Summary: This got dark quickly👀
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Bells for Him

The room was closing in around him. His breathing became shallow. 

_Can’t stop what’s coming_

His palms were sweating despite feeling like ice. His throat felt tight and his heart was pounding in his chest. 

_Can’t stop what is on its way_

Severus Snape had not yet known fear like this. He cowered like a child in the corner of his classroom. 

Today had been the day that he was supposed to finish packing up his things. He had bought the old apothecary in Hogsmeade and had planned on moving there as soon as possible to start his new chance at life. He had actually been looking forward to it. No one to barge into his office and ask him stupid questions. No one to bother him in the evenings.

His current situation threw a wrench in his plans; specifically because he was about to die. He could feel it in his blood, death was so close. His heartbeat rang in his ears as he tried to become one with the wall. He didn’t know how this was possible, no one could have possibly done this. No one in the school hated him this much. This was too far for a practical joke. He’d seen plenty of those in his days, mainly when he started teaching and hadn’t yet scared the pants off everyone. This was now pure, primal fear. The fear that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The fear that you see in the eyes of a deer before it gets hit. The fear that drives all animals to survive out of necessity and instinct. He wasn’t just close to death, he wanted it. 

This was far too much, far more than anything he’d had to endure before. He’d been lashed, stabbed, hexed, cursed, beaten—hell he’d even been shot that one time. He’d been under the Cruciatus. He’d seen unspeakable things be done to other people. This was too much, this crossed a line he hadn’t thought possible. He didn’t know if he had yelled when he saw it, all he knew was that he was frozen in the corner of the room and it was closing in on him. He couldn’t apparate, he couldn’t escape, and no one would hear him from the dungeons even if he did yell. He had left his wand on his desk, a pathetic mistake that would mock him in his last remaining moments. His only hope was that it would be quick. He’d already died once, and he very clearly remembered the feeling of that beast’s venom slowly curling its way through his veins like burning lead. The hot searing pain of its teeth ripping through the soft flesh of his neck, leaving him with a permanently hoarse voice. 

This thing stood before him, if standing was even the right word to use. It towered, almost inhumanly. Black as the night sky with skin that looked like death itself. Bones practically visible through such paleness, but with not even the slightest hint of weakness. This thing, this creature looked as though it could kill with a look. Severus hoped so. Its eyes bore into him with the ferocity of an animal nearly starved and then presented with fresh meat. 

This level of helpless was far beyond what he’d experienced. He’d witnessed death. He’d seen people be tortured. He’d witnessed his father’s drunken wrath being taken out on his mother, but this topped everything. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop himself. His time had finally come. But then the door opened. 

He feared for whoever had dared come near this horrendous beast. They couldn’t possibly realize the horror of what was occurring in this room. He saw her hair before her face. Granger! Oh gods, Granger! He wanted her to save him from this nightmare, but even more than that he wanted her to be safe. He wanted her to be far, far away from this ghastly wretch. He was stuck between pleading for help and yelling at her to get out. She gasped. She saw the awful creature that had been stalking toward him.  
His voice was stuck in his throat, along with his heart. Every nerve in his body was fried, he so badly craved the sweet release of eternal peace and nothingness if that’s what it too to escape. The creature turned its head toward her. He heard the sickening crack as its neck snapped to look her dead in the eyes, no doubt peering into her soul with the same hot fire. 

Now, with the creature’s eyes off him, he found his next instinct: protect her. He summoned his wand and cast as many hexes and curses as he could at the grotesque monster that was now starting to face her. He saw the look of agony take hold of her face. The monster twitched. What the hell was happening to it? It’s skin was bubbling and morphing. Its size shrank by a few inches and crazy black curly hair sprout forth from its head. Shock took over him instead. Bella? Had it been her the entire time? Granger was frozen in place and he heard a strangled cry escape her throat. Understanding washed over him. A bloody fucking boggart? A boggart and a severe panic attack, that’s what had nearly killed him? How stupid. Bella was nothing, he could handle this.  
“Riddikulus!” he shouted at her.

She turned to face him but was now wearing a bright pink dress with bows all over it, complete with a face full of bright and colorful makeup. That was enough to garner a chuckle. He looked down at her feet and saw two pink strappy shoes with little bows on each side. That did him in. He was doubled over, trying not to laugh too loudly even though he knew it was necessary. The boggart vanished into thin air and he forced composure upon himself. He spoke directly to Granger,

“Are you okay?” He asked in a soft albeit hoarse voice.

She stood frozen still, a look of disbelief plastered onto her face. Her mouth was still parted from the shriek that had attempted to escape her. He wondered if one of his curses had managed to accidentally hit her.

“Granger!” He barked in his best teacher voice.

She snapped out of whatever trance she had been in and looked at him.

“Sir” she whispered, “how… did… a boggart… get down… here?” her breath was labored.

“No idea” he said with no small amount of feigned nonchalance.

“And why? …why?” She trailed off, not able to ask the question he knew she was thinking.

“What are you here for, Granger?” He sneered, already irritated that she wasn’t her verbose self as usual. 

“I…I… Professor McGonagall… she asked… I was with her… she um…—“.

“Today, Miss Granger” he drawled.

She gave him a sharp look.

“She wanted to see you… before you left” she paused, “I didn’t know you were leaving” she seemed almost regretful.

“It is of no importance to you, but nonetheless I shall see her before I do” he mocked, having regained his composure, but then again he was used to having to do so.

“Sir I,…—“ she started.

“If that’s all, Granger” he stared her down, challenging her to continue.

She nodded and slowly made her way out of his classroom, clearly still stunned from what she had just experienced. He knew little of what happened to her at Malfoy Manor, but it made all too much sense now. Bella always did enjoy playing with her food before eating it, something even the others would cringe ever so slightly at if you studied their expressions; and he had. She was brutal, and whatever she had done to Miss Granger had surely made a lasting impression. He felt sorry for her, it never should have come to that. Especially the bit about having children fight a war. He couldn’t help but wonder what else might have happened that even he did not know. He knew that there was not much that got worse than Bellatrix when she was in a mood. He was quite familiar them, but now they seemed like nothing compared to the horror that he had just witnessed. 

He figured his boggart would have been Voldemort after all this time. It had been his father when he was quite young and hadn’t known anything more terrifying, but he was now left feeling somewhat surprised. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he wasn’t truly surprised at its form, but he wanted to know when it had changed. He knew he had to devise some sort of plan for what to do if this happened again, because if it did he certainly wouldn’t have Granger to inadvertently come and save the day. And if it did happen again, he would most likely not have anyone around to lure it away long enough for him to compose himself. 

He realized that this must mean something. This was most certainly a serious moment in his life, but what to do about it… well he wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t know if there was much meaning to be gleaned, but at the very least it meant that he had to look within himself and start asking questions. For example, what was the very worst thing he had done? What did he regret the most? What did he really hate most about himself? He didn’t know if the answers to these questions would mean all that much or if they would help him in any way, but he needed to know. 

_And I see it coming_

He needed to reevaluate himself entirely. 

_And it’s on its way_

He never thought the day would come when his boggart was none other than Severus Tobias Snape, himself, seen through his own eyes.

“How strange” he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you spot the Tori Amos inspiration?


End file.
